#HIS SUPERIOR SPIT TO CLEAN OFF THE MESS SHE MADE ON HIS BOOT

[stilemawillow]

Thank you for replying :') I'm not sure if you have rules for requests? But if this is okay with you, can I request some Levi x reader when one of them does something embarrassing but cute? Crack! Thank you wuuuuvs 🥺

yes, i do take requests but i do them slowly so sorry for that, i typed down a short drabble (1.6k words, kind of got out of hand lol), hope you still like it. also i was brainstorming the embarrassing but cute thing for like ten minutes, i completely blanked lol

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It was late, the Survey Corps had had a celebratory gathering in honour of their last remotely successful mission - if nothing else in regards to the few casualties. The cadets were awarded some time off and a bigger meal than usual and the superiors had waited for them to depart so they could spoil themselves with a bit of their alcohol reserve.

The Commander hadn’t set a curfew for them but many left after a glass or two, too tired to stay and knowing they’d still have work the next day. The others - meaning (Y/N), Hanji and Nanaba - were having fun, being loud and, as all three would say - living life to their best. The only left was Levi Ackerman, who stayed in the beginning and spend just a little time with the females before deciding to spare his eardrums some of the raucous torture.

He’d gone on a walk around the HQ to let the pleasant warmth of the alcohol in the crevice of his ribcage fade. He’d always had a high tolerance, thus why drinking was a complete waste of time to him - he’d drain the whole reserve in order to feel anything out of the ordinary or, as Hanji and (Y/N) often described - a disconnection between his brain and body so strong he acted on nothing but his instincts.

The clock was pointing at one past midnight and he was sure there was anybody awake but him. He decided, since he doubted sleep would come to him tonight, to pass by the mess hall to make himself a cup of tea and clean up after the loud drunkards in the meantime.

Except the mess hall still had one inhabitant, in the face of Squad Leader (Y/N) (L/N), or, to Levi, the human embodiment of weird. She’d been his comrade for about five years now and were considered close; she’d made it a point to breach his walls like a firing cannon and he’d struggled to fight her off for a while but he didn’t hate her completely - never had and never thought he would - and so he let her in eventually. Their relationship was simple and platonic, maintain the opposite as Hanji might.

Levi and (Y/N) regarded it as exchanging favours, with silence on his side and loud persistence on hers to make up for it. There was understanding too. He’d often fancied the idea of murdering Hanji in cold blood for pointing out a bit too much his habitual proclivity to let (Y/N) touch him and sometimes, touch her back. She was somebody who didn’t mind rumours and didn’t find use in wasting her energy debunking them, so there had been an established routine between them - she could touch him when nobody was looking. The routine was set in stone around the time she found out he didn’t scream at her too much when she did it in front of others too.

Tonight, (Y/N)’s drinking had gotten a bit out of hand, because she was leaning against one of the tables, cursing at an empty bottle and swaying just a bit. Levi approached her and had just cleared his throat when her shoulders jumped and she almost tripped when turning to look at him.

“Can you even get to your room in this condition?” His question was reasonable but what he didn’t know was that she didn’t have the mental capacity to process it. Or him.

“’m in perrrrfect condition. I can go to the moon too.” Her eyes were narrowed and the gaze in them - foggy. Levi gave a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, then, pointedly as he could, reached out a hand to grab and stabilise her. “Ew, don’t touch me!” She slapped his fingers before they could even grab her, then he was left to blink at her disgusted expression.

“Come, we have to get you to bed.” He was talking boredly, like a grown person explaining 1+1 to a child. Her brows furrowed and she moved away from him but the look in her eyes didn’t clear up.

“Bed? You want me in bed? Well, I say no because I don’t want bed and you. I want somebody else. So fuck off and leave me alone.” She’d royally cussed him out and he’d almost gotten tired of her bullshit when she reached for the empty bottle of the table and began sadly scrutinising the few drops inside. After gulping them down, she decided it would be best to sit down and Levi, in turn, concluded he wouldn’t get his peace of mind if he didn’t force her into her room.

“I’m not leaving you alone because you’ll get hurt. Now come along.” He grabbed her arm and forced her off her ass, to which she frantically tried to shake his hold in vain. Once they were face to face, he felt she might just spit at him with how angry she looked and all.

“I tol’ you not to touch me!” She was hitting him across the chest and he was rolling his eyes at her antics - though he had no idea why she was acting like this now. He hadn’t seen her this drunk anyway. Hanji and Nanaba always took care of her when she was. And they always shared weird looks the morning after.

“You’re usually the one touching me.” His comment made her expression contort in confusion, like the idea of physical touch existing between them was unfathomable to her brain.

“Who? Me? Excuse you, I don’t---” She hiccuped and he was pulling her along - and he, very briefly thought that cute. “I touch only Levi. Because I like him.” His brows furrowed - this was a sudden confession, but so had been the first one. He was well aware (Y/N) held romantic feelings for him and she was well aware he returned them, except, he hadn’t reacted well to the idea of a relationship and they’d kept it down to being close friends instead.

“I like you too.” It was blurted out and composed, just a bit exasperated. She wasn’t telling him anything new but he was curious as to what had even made her do it tonight. And he thought, ever so optimistically, she might just not remember him saying it back the next morning - as he’d never worded it this straightforwardly.

“Why are you sayin’ ‘ too’? I’m not confessing to you and I don’t like you, I like Levi Ackerman, as in Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, as in the fucking love of my life.” She was tugging him back, or at least trying to since it wasn’t working and he kept dragging her down the hallway to the stairs. Her words were what made him halt. He was holding her and she’d told him he was the love of her life - now that was new - and she was talking like... he was a stranger.

“So who am I again?” His inquiry made her brows furrow, she snorted and hiccuped once more - he forced himself not to be distracted by that and the annoyingly cute way in which her nose was scrunched up in disgruntlement.

“From where the hell should I know? You’re a shady guy who keeps touching me and trying to get me in bed. Sorry, bud, not workin’. The only guy I’ll be beddin’ isn’t here right now.” She tugged on his arm once more, then he suggested that they went to him instead and she was quite pleased to hear that. “Or I could go m’self.” Her suggestion was followed by a sneeze, then she was rubbing her arm after he’d let go of it with a condescending look on his face. “You might not be aware but Levi’s tol’ me he likes me too and if he sees you tryin’ to abduct me he might just get angry and kick your face off.”

“I’d like to see that happen.” He was almost smirking at the index finger she was pointing in his direction, almost about to jab straight into his chest. She was frowning, ever so mighty whilst declaring that he - the man standing before her - would come along and beat himself up because she was so fucking wasted she couldn’t recognise him. Talk about disconnection between brain and body.

“If you don’t keep your han’s off me, it might. I’ll just call for him. He’ll beat you to a pulp.” Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and she was pouting now, mad but not that much and he was watching her recklessly trip on her way up the stairs. He gave her twenty minutes and made bets on whether she’d reach his room at all or not and lost when she was seen nowhere along the hallway passed out or whining.

She was snoring on his bed already and he took his time discarding her jacket and boots, then his own prior to entering his office and getting to work with one of the reports he had to write. It took him three hours to finally yawn, he joined (Y/N) on the bed and just barely rolled his eyes when she turned over in her sleep and began mumbling his name.

The morning after he woke up first and decided to enlighten her on the topic of what she’d done last night and why she’d woken up in his bed during breakfast. She went so red in the face it looked painful and Hanji, overhearing their conversation began laughing so hard she choked. Needless to say, (Y/N) gave up alcohol for a while and Levi made it a point to remind her why every time he caught her glancing longingly at the cellar. Not that he minded a confession from her once in a while, or those cute hiccups, or the simultaneous annoyance and amusement he felt at her inability to recognise him.

[waywardimpalawriter]

Hey kristy-waves-I saw your blog and I liked it so much,so I have this request about castiel xreader about the song no light by florence and the machine ,I want it angst no happy endings necessary ,it's about the reader is hiding a secret about castiel and he knows that and faces her but she refuse to tell ,I hope you hear the song it might help and thanks

Hidden agenda  

Pairing: Human!Castiel x Reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: anger, angst, verbal fighting,  

Word count: 3,295

Note: Requested by @justmasblack a while ago, sadly I had problems with things in life and writing fell behind. That being said I’m now getting around to finishing up requests and hopefully other stories as well. This inspiration from the song ‘No Lights’ by Florence and The Machines. Enjoy doll.  

Forever:

@angryschnauzer @feelmyroarrrr@aquabrie @fandommaniacx   @becs-bunker

Supernatural:

@aprofoundbondwithdean @ruprecht0420 @akshi8278 @andkatiethings

“Listen buddy, um,” eyes darting everywhere but Castiel’s, not wanting him to see the truth. “You can’t stay.” 

Those are the words you walk in on, words that send a dagger through your heart not only for yourself but for Castiel as the look on his face speaks volumes. An array of emotions, from anger to disappointment and betrayal to the greatest being hurt all flit across his features. It makes your heartache and anger to ignite in your veins, combine that with an itch to punch Dean in his face for sending his best friend away.  

Taking two more steps forward you’re able to hear what Castiel says, “What do you mean I can’t stay?” 

Running a hand through his thick brown hair tugging on the strands in frustration, “You’ll be putting us in danger Cas. The angels their all looking for you and with Sam still recovering…” 

He leaves the rest hanging and though you don’t know if he’s actually looking at Castiel you suspect he’s not making eye contact as he normally would. You suspect there could be more to his reasoning and only part of it has to do with Sam. 

You go to step forward when Castiel speaks, rough and full of pain his voice cracks slightly, “I understand Dean, Sam’s family, and he’s still recovering, I’ll be going then.” 

Giving Dean one last look, Castiel spy’s you standing in the archway coming from the library, giving you a sharp nod as well before heading for the stairs. It’s unusual to have him walk away instead of just fly in a swish of trench coat and wings. Partly disturbing that the once powerful angel has been reduced to a normal human. This makes anger surge hotter, especially when the door slams, the ringing echoing through the bunker and your body with a finality you never wanted to hear. 

“What the hell is your problem Winchester? Why would you send Cas out to face such uncertainty and the possibility of death? He’s never been human before this isn’t something he should be facing alone,” anger tinging your voice as you step forward to confront the eldest Winchester. 

   Pivoting on his booted feet a deep glare marring his handsome features, “You think I wanted to do that, to send him out into a world he barely understands?” 

“That’s what it sounded like to me.” A sneer twisting your features, “You all but tossed him out the front door yourself. With no regard for what could happen to him.” Stepping down so that you’ve come face to face with Dean, arms crossed over your chest a glare showing the disapproval. 

Shaking his head, Dean slumps back against the war table, “I have no choice Y/N it’s either dump Cas out like yesterday’s trash or loose Sam.”

“Sam wouldn’t just up and…” realization smacks you in the face like an unexpected branch while running, deflating some of your anger. “Ezekiel threatened to leave didn’t he and let Sam die?” One sharp nod and you’ve come to lean next to Dean against the table. Knowing without words how hard this position is for him and what he’s gone through to make sure Sam heals.  

You are the hole in my head

You are the space in my bed

You are the silence in between

What I thought and what I said

You are the night-time fear

You are the morning when it’s clear

When it’s over you’ll start

Running a hand through already ruffled hair making it spike, “How can I not protect Sam when it’s my fault he’s in this mess. On the other hand, I’ve signed Cas’s death certificate,” pulling the stands Dean turns his back. Frustration courses through his veins making him itch to punch something. 

“I’ll go find him, help acclimate him to being human,” the very words shock you. Not that you don’t care for Castiel in fact if you were truthful… Shaking your head you push those thoughts aside, you were doing this to ensure his safety and wellbeing. “I promise to look after him, Dean.”

Turning, “You sure about that? You’ll be painting a target on your ass the size of Texas.” 

“Nothing I haven’t been through before,“ a deep sigh leaving parched lips. "Been hunting since I could walk, made a few enemies that way. Wiley Coyote chasing the Road Running,” giving a half smirk, “just a friendly game of tag that’s all.”  

Harsh snort leaving his lips, “I think you got that twisted sister,” shaking his head, Dean rests a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful and keep the two of you safe.” 

Smirking, “Now why would I go and do stupid a thing like getting us killed or captured?” slim brow lifting, you turn to head back the way you came. 

“All the same don’t let your mouth over load your ass Y/N,” calling after you, before slumping back against the table worried for the both of you warring with everything else already clouding his mind.

You’re my head, you’re my heart

No light, no light in your bright blue eyes

I never knew daylight could be so violent

A revelation in the light of day

You can’t choose what stays and what fades away

And I’d do anything to make you stay

No light, no light

(No light)

Having left without cleaning up or changing clothes you tossed your stuff into the passenger seat of your Ford Rancho, got in, turned the key and gunned the engine. Wanting to catch up with Castiel before he got too far or worse into trouble and your promise to Dean would be null in void before getting off the ground. Though you reasoned being on foot he may have gotten a mile, two at most. What you hadn’t counted on was the ride he hitched not far from the bunker. 

Exasperated you’re just about ready to give up driving around Lebanon looking when you catch a flash of something. A fight and by the looks a pretty nasty one with the guy on the ground getting the crap beating out of them. You pull over, jumping out to run over, getting the shock of your life when you see Castiel on the ground curled in a ball. 

Muscles react, hand goes to the angel blade in the small of your back hidden by your jacket, and ready yourself for a fight you may lose, “Hey assface why don’t you pick on someone who can fight back?”   

“Not your fight human just run away while you can still breathe,” tall and blonde, his nasally voice already getting on your nerves. 

“Pff,” flipping the blade a sneer on your face, “And why don’t you come over here and meet Mr. Pointy, he’s really looking forward to sticking it to ya.”

Lunging forward his own blade glinted in the low light, trying to take a swipe at you but missing as you’ve side stepped the angel. Who by the looks of things is still trying to use to his new body, “Ah what’s the matter fluffy haven’t got the balance  to keep up?”  

“Shut up mud monkey,” words gritted out between clinched teeth, eyes quickly assessing the scenario. Taking a few quick steps seeing that you drop your left side. An entry point he takes advantage of by landing a right hook to the side of your face. Having you stagger backwards at the power, “Not too cocky now are you human?” smirk drifting over his lips.  

Catching yourself, tasting blood from the broke lip, you gather the coppery substance and spit it out right at his feet. “Nothing I haven’t felt before fluffy beside that punch was weak my grandmother could hit harder than that.”  

No words, just lashing out throwing punches and slashed between the two of you. You’ve landed a few good ones to his chest, and side with cuts to his face angel grace flashing low with the cuts. While he’s managed to figure out your fighting style, inflicting a number of blows that have you staggering backwards and bumping into Castiel. Holding his bleeding side with one arm and trying to help balance you with the other.  

“How sweet trying to help your girlfriend Castiel?” shaking his head in disgust a sneer crossing his angelic face. “Trading all of Heaven for these mud monkeys? You’re pathetic Castiel truly a disgrace to your angel wings.”  

From your periphery, seeing the hurt and shame make his expressive blue eyes dim, and your blood to boil at the audacity of this piece of shit. Gently pushing away from his warm embrace, flipping the angel blade in your hand once more so that the blade is cocked to the side. Fire dancing in your eyes along with a healthy dose of hate for this piece of shit, “If anyone is truly pathetic it’s you. For following orders and not asking questions.” Taking a step forward new strength filling your veins at the memory of Castiel’s face. “You who think you’re so superior to us humans. But let me tell you one thing assbutt, Castiel has more heart and courage in his little pinkie than you have in your whole body.”  

This time the angel snorts, hands out waving them carefully in front of him waiting for the next attack to come. Almost growing bored with the whole encounter. “Are you gonna talk me to…” before he could finish the words you start to attack.

Aiming your blade for his chest you throw it with all your might, only to have it deflected by his own blade. The act just the opening you needed to get a running start using his bent knee as a step to vault you up and around his shoulders. Arms wrapped around his neck to cut off air and put pressure to his throat. The two of you flailing in circles, he tries to stab at your arms and legs a few times. Getting a hit in a time or two, but his world is starting to go black, his senses unaware of the fact that Castiel has joined the fight.  

Not wanting to lose you to this piece of shit you’ve taken upon yourself to defend him from, Castiel moves quickly as his injures will allow him. Picking up the discarded angel blade he moves forward, careful of the swinging weapon in the other angel’s hand. Castiel gets close enough hesitating for a fraction of a second, at killing one of his brothers. However, that thought flew out, especially when he notices that the angel has the opening, he needs to disengage you from around his shoulders and in the process ending your life.  

Rage like he’s never felt before courses through his veins, his aim never wavers as it lands, sinking deep into the angel’s chest. Blood curdling scream leaves his lips, bright bluish white light enveloping them all, his body disintegrating under you, a yelp of surprise added to the noise. Feeling your body dropping, preparing yourself for the pain that would come. Eyes screwed closed but pop open when warm arms and chest catch you. Staggering a few steps, to almost dropping you, but managing to hang onto the most precious being in the world to him.  

A surprised gasp leaves your lips when you land in his arms, your own go to wrap around his neck, eyes meeting the bright blues of his. You have to resist the urge to lean in to kiss him only helped by the wounds on your side as a hiss leaves you lips.  

“Your damaged Y/N?” it’s both a conformation and question that has him gently moving towards the bench to set you down. Looking over your body and cursing his inability to heal you, while seeing the cuts adoring your face and sides. He flinches at the soft feel of callused fingers bringing his chin up to look you in the eyes.  

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before Cas I promise I’ll be fine,” eyes soft as you take in his own injuries. “We just gotta get back to my car and to a motel room to get cleaned up.”  

Tell me what you want me to say

But would you leave me If I told you what I’ve done And would you leave me If I told you what I’ve become

‘Cause it’s so easy To say it to a crowd But it’s so hard, my love To say it to you out loud

You go to stand with help from Cas, the two of you holding on to each other and limping back to your car. Once in the driver seat a small sigh of relief leaves your lips, and you glance over at Castiel who’s got one arm wrapped around his chest where a gash seeps a thin line of blood through his shirt.  

“Don’t,” gravelly and deep, though he doesn’t turn to look at you, just stares out the windshield.  

Putting the car in drive, you pull away from the curb, “Don’t what Cas?”  

Broken sigh leaves his lips though he still stares out the window, “Look at me that way Y/N, with pity in your eyes.”  

Shock doesn’t even begin to tap into what you feel at his words. Surely he doesn’t think… “Castiel I don’t pity you. I’m worried and not understanding why you left the bunker.” Biting your bottom lip knowing that last part is a lie that tastes bitter on your tongue.  

“Dean asked me to leave, it’s wasn’t my choice Y/N,” this time he turns to look at your profile hidden except for the times when they pass under a streetlight. “Did you know?”

No light, no light in your bright blue eyes I never knew daylight could be so violent A revelation in the light of day You can’t choose what stays and what fades away

And I’d do anything to make you stay No light, no light

Tell me what you want me to say

Rolling to a stop at the light, glancing over at Castiel his bright blue eyes searing into yours, making it very hard not to tell him the truth. “No, I didn’t know Cas.” Those five simple words bitter in your mouth, breaking your heart for the man beside and for yourself. “I only walked in on the last part of your conversation. Dean told me what happen and I left to find out to find you.”  

Nodding solemnly, turning his eyes back on the road missing the hurt in your own. He’s unsure if he believes you but for now, “Thank you.”  

“For what?” biting your bottom lip to keep the small sob of regret from leaving your chapped lips.  

“Saving me back there,” his answer short and clipped while you pull the car into a parking spot.  

Nodding though you know he can’t see as the interior is too dark, “Stay here I’ll get us a room.”  

Watching you go, Castiel’s eyes drop to the cell phone on the dash. A text message from Dean flashing on the small screen that he can’t help but read.  

Text: Have you found him?  

Are y’all safe?  

Fucking hell Y/N answer me.  

The screen goes black as Castiel’s thoughts swirl in his head. Caught between picking the phone up to answer and just leave things alone. The answer comes with the next text message.  

Text: You’re right Y/N I shouldn’t have made him leave. But I can’t lose Sam. Tell him….

Three dots blink for a moment as if Dean’s trying to figure out what to say next.  

Text: Keep him safe and don’t let him know

The revelation hits him hard and he scrambles to get out of the car just as you come back from getting the motel key.  

“Cas where are you going? I need to patch you up,” confusion coloring your eyes as you look him over. Gut dropping as to what has him acting this way. “What happened?”  

“You tell me Y/N? What does Dean not want you to tell me?” eyes boring into yours making you flinch and turn away.  

Running a shaking blooded hand through your hair, “It’s complicated Cas but I can’t tell you.”  

You want a revelation You want to get it right But, it’s a conversation I just can’t have tonight

“Secrets never get you anywhere Y/N you know this. Sam and Dean know this so why the lies? Why keep this from me?” taking a step towards you wanting answers but also wanting to hold you. How could two conflicting emotions be warring inside his mind.  

Moving towards the car to pull out your bags, “Not here,” motioning towards the room you’re rented for the night. Hoping that Castiel will follow and not just disappear.  

Entering, you drop you bags on the bed as Castiel follows, standing as a status by the now closed door. “We’re in, talk.”  

Sighing, you turn to face him arms crossing over your chest. Eyes catching the blooded shirt, “Take your shirt off and let me bandage you up first.”  

“No,” firm and harsh Castiel stalks forward and grabs your arm as you’ve turned to rummage through your medical bag. The forcefulness in his tone and grip has you gasping.  

You want a revelation Some kind of resolution You want a revelation

Pulling your arm free from his tight grasp, “I can’t tell you Castiel, its not my place plus I promise Dean,” seeing the pain, sadness that etches its way across Castiel’s features breaks your heart even more this time. Since you’re the one hurting him, something you promised you’d never do. Not to the man you love.  

Shaking his head, “That angel was right I am pathetic for choosing humanity, for choosing…” he bites the last words off turning from you. From Dean, he could stomach the secrets and betrayals but from you that damn near killed him.  

“Cas…” you step towards the injured angel now human wanting to try and make things right. “Tell me what you want me to say?”  

Turning back, eyes catching yours, “The truth Y/N, I want you to tell me the truth.”  

“I can’t.”  

“I didn’t think you would. Goodbye Y/N,” starting for the door he doesn’t see you follow him till your hand grasps his. Thumb brushing over the back of his warm callused hand.  

Wordlessly you try to tug him back inside, “Please,” you whisper, tears clogging your voice. Trapped between loyalty to Dean and your love for Castiel. “Stay, let me take care of you and we can do this together.”  

“No not when I can’t trust you won’t hold other things a secret from me. Unless,” he pivots back pulling his hand free from yours. The warmth and tenderness getting too much for him to bare. “Tell me the truth Y/N and I’ll stay.”  

Anguish flows through your veins, eyes down casting, arms wrapping around your body once more. “You want a revelation, a conversation I can’t have Castiel. Not tonight,” looking up at him pleading eyes dripping with tears. “Stay.”  

No answer comes it’s almost like he has his angel powers back and he’s just flew away. But you know that’s not the case. No, this time Castiel walks out, quicker than you thought he could in his condition. That revelation destroys you. Legs weaken so that you drop to the musty carpeted floor. Sobs wrack your frame as you curl into a ball, cursing yourself for letting this happen. For letting him walk away.  

You want a revelation You want to get it right But, it’s a conversation I just can’t have tonight You want a revelation Some kind of resolution Tell me what you want me to say

[bates--boy]

          Peter shouldn’t be here; being here messed up his headspace, made things all topsy-turvy, like he was in a simulation and one misstep, one error in a line of code, and he was going to blip smack dab into an unfamiliar plane that he would spend the rest of his existence feeling wasn’t right, but unable to explain why while pretending normalcy. How else was he to feel after that misadventure? For those few days, he had a taste of godhood, far superior to the nationhood he had craved as a child. To come down from that and return to the semi-human life he had built for himself, it was a crashing and tumbling spiral that looked his egomania right in the eyes while crushing its nuts with steel toe boots.

Peter needed more recovery time to adjust and remind himself that he was here, that this was his body, that he couldn't go toe-to-toe with celestial bodies, that he had more pressing matters to attend to, anyway, such as one with his cursed journal and the elusive intruder that always tempted him to look over his shoulder. And also that he needed a nap.

But he had made a full physical recovery, so that meant coming to work. He followed his coworker down the gated corridor, nodding along to the updated animal care regimen while only able to note half of the lecture while trying to make the exploding and spinning stars slow down into a manageable equilibrium.

"Right now, we have the tortoises on stimulants and steroids to encourage increased breeding," the coworker whose name Peter's overwrought mind couldn't draw forth. "But it has to be at a certain time because, you know, you don't want them fucking in front of kids."

They stopped in front of the gear station, which was nothing but padded and plated vests, rubber boots, and face shields hanging on metal hooks with tranq guns sitting on racks. They donned these protective layers over their regular uniform, as the coworker continued on:

"The lions are doing well, and we're mostly sticking to the same regimen. We're just going to increase their food intake a tad for the upcoming season. Get them fattened up for the cold."

Peter nodded silently, and they approached the gates with the coworker giving a thumbs up to the camera peeking through the rocky upper corner. They waited for the barricade to lift and stepped on through the opening, and the coworker inhaled deep into his lungs the tangy, wild air of the lion enclosure.

"Okay, I'll go hose down the resting rocks, and you can clean up their toys. Got your tranq ready?"

Peter gave his handgun a quick look. "Yep."

"And radio?"

Peter reached within his best and pulled the little handheld device out, wiggling it in his hand as a gesture before putting it in his outer vest pocket.

Nodding to each other, the two men wandered off to their tasks. Peter filled the power hose container with soapy water and carried it over to one of the play sections. The ammoniac strength of urine marking the tire wheels had already made Peter's eye watered. He had tried to rip apart a great big body of singularity before this, yet this had somehow made his nose drip.

He continued wiping his face, spitting thick snot that found its way into the wrong sinus tube. In some part of his mind, Peter was still on that kitchen floor, rocking and hugging himself and letting his bleeding hands stain his sweat shirt. He turned away, hacking and coughing, heading to the next section.

He stopped, his head whipping to the side. He blinked over and over, practically digging the heel of his hands into his eyes, but what caught his attention was definitely real.

A charging lion, eyes set and head low, hainches pumping with power and all paws kicking up clouds of dirt. Peter had noticed it too late, or it was running too quickly. In either case, he couldn't train his gun on the lioness for an accurate hit, nor could he radio for help. Some part of him was aware that he could survive this, that even if he was ripped to shreds and -- god forbid! -- his insides eaten, he might come back from this. Still, the chill of fear rippled from his back, spreading to shoulders and fingers and toes, opening up to the strength of his fort as he fully faced the running creature.

Then, and only then, did Peter pick up on the odd loping of the lioness's gallop. Then, the looping tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. Finally, as she drew closer, the speckled dark spots running from her left paw up to her face.

He had managed to say one word, as eyes widened and mouth hung open--

"Nala?!"

-- and in that split second, Peter's body softened, retaining enough strength to catch the goofy lion cub in unexpected arms. They both tumbled to the ground, Nala drowning Peter in her purrs, trapping him in her arms, and bumping and rubbing her head against his. "Nala!" Peter called out in a disbelieving laugh. "Oh, my god, my baby girl!"

His sense of the world shifted, everything felt right in those few moment, as he shifted himself and his baby girl, not so much a baby anymore, around in the ground so he could cradle the overgrown cub on his lap. This way, it was easier to place smooches all over her face and play nibble on her gigantic paws while cooing, "Awww, sweetheart, I missed you, too!"

[code-of-creation]

Octavo OC first draft: Screamo

Name/Nickname: Scream Tavo (Screamo)

Universe/AU: Foundling (Shifting AU’s easily obtained through the unpredictable magic of the lost woods.)

Age: 21

Species: Appears Hylian, carries Picori/Minish blood.

Likes: Wide open spaces, animals, kindness, warm food, places with good acoustics, calm warm weather, being read to, hearing bards that sing good stories, dry socks, stability.

Dislikes: Noisy places, strong winds he cannot control (It interferes with his hearing), rude people, religious zealots, the unique smell of churches/houses of prayer, cold wet weather, snow (It obscures his ability to “see” the terrain), wet socks/shoes, others yelling, being seen as an invalid.

Personality: Screamtavo is surprisingly friendly, but is awkward and has a hard time interacting with people as he expects everyone to be cold and unpleasant. Being nice to him will almost immediately make you a friend. He has very little self worth, but tries to brush it off with self depreciating humour. He is superficially happy on the outside, but if you manage to scratch past that, which is usually easy but it varies, he is a mess of trauma from his past.

Abilities: Naturally he has minor echolocation abilities that vary due to terrain, material used in obstacles, the ambient noise of the area, and other interfering factors. His sense of hearing is far superior to the average Hylian, due to recessive Minish genes emerging in him. His hearing goes beyond just what he can “see” through his echolocation. He can hear the mice in the walls, large bugs skittering across the floor in the next room, the breathing of the people around him and so on.

Once he gains the mysterious red gem in the mail, his abilities strengthen and he gains control of the wind to a certain degree, and an incredible increase in his hearing ability, which he can control very well. With this control he can lower his hearing to the normal pre-gem levels, or he can elevate them to hear at great distances or the smaller sounds around him. This is difficult though as ambient sounds will often overwhelm him as there are just too many different noises or they are too loud.

With his ability to “See” through sound, he mentally maps the movement of sound, meaning he can also “see” sound. He cannot produce magic through the sounds he makes (Sleeping songs, confusion screams) but being able to see the sound, once he identifies the frequencies used for specific spells, he’ll remember them. Unfortunately the sound has to reach him to be recognized, if the spell is short he might not be able to protect himself. If it’s long he will cover his ears and block it out. He can teach this knowledge to those capable of sound magic.

Appearance: He has the typical Octavo colouring, grape purple hair, golden eyes, purple-grey skin.

Since losing his vision to a severe stroke, his eyes don’t focus any more, they still look normal however and move towards the sources of sounds. It appears as though he refuses to make eye contact however, which effects his interactions with people. He loves having long hair as he’s always felt it looks better on him, as well as it being a comfort thing. He brushes it every morning and every night, and used to braid it until it got too long for him to do so. His arms get tired now.

His clothes rarely match in colour and often clash, he prefers durable and comfortable clothing. With tunics and leggings so popular in Hylian culture, he often finds himself with such. He has a long light brown/tan leather jacket for wet and windy weather, if it’s a dry cold he’ll prefer a thick dark purple wool sweater that he invested good money in. The sweater is too long in the sleeves and hangs on him like a tunic, he loves squishing the cable knit designs and does so for comfort when stressed. His boots are undyed leather, and instead of paying for proper boot laces, he uses cheap ribbons the store had on sale. He asked for purple ones of course.

History/Brief Backstory:

Infancy: Screamo tavo is a foundling, left as a naked new born bundled in a threadbare pillow case on the steps of a church of the golden goddesses. The priestess of the church was very strict, as were the members. They all raised him out of a sense of obligation, but told him all his life he was inferior due to his “Gerudo” eyes and purple hair. He was an abomination and needed to pray to the goddesses for forgiveness.

Childhood: As a child, he was an outcast. He was denied education. He was made to do chores as soon as he could hold a broom and cleaned not just for the church but whoever called upon him. Basically the church’s free “members only” housekeeping. When he was not cleaning he was made to pray on his knees. He never blamed the goddesses for this, but came to hate the church he grew up in.

Teenage: As a young teenager he was attacked by the drunken teens of the village. He doesn’t remember much of the attack, but does remember being told he had been smashed in the head by a brick. He had been left until morning the next day, laying in the street bleeding, bones broken from the group beating. He was only brought to the church to get him out of the street, being an eyesore. Initially, he received no treatment for any of the open wounds sustained during the beating.

Injury continued: He laid in pain on the floor for a day, trying to hold back his sounds of pain, until he went quiet. Having a stroke that evening, no one realized what had happened until the next morning. Finally the priestess got the town “doctor” to come treat him. He was cared for by the doctor and church for three days until he regained consciousness. Upon regaining consciousness, he did not feel right. At first, he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t see, what he heard became scrambled into distortion his head . After a lengthy and unpleasant recovery, he still did not regain his sight. His other senses returned and he regained his ability to speak and understand others.

After injury: More of a burden than ever before, Screamtavo stayed for a mere year afterwards to adjust to living without vision. During this time he learned to rely on his hearing more, and realized that he could sense how far walls were by the ever so faint sound he heard echo back. He started clicking his tongue to hear the sound, but the clicking was annoying and discouraged by the members of the church. Shortly before leaving he began singing, something he had never tried as he was expected to stay quiet his whole life. 

Leaving: Armed with only a staff used for ceremonies by the priestess, the clothes on his back, and a bag with two days of food and water, he left in the middle of the night. He chose that night to leave because the priestess would need the staff for an important ceremony the next day and he wanted his last act to be a grand gesture to the church. He walked along the single road out of his town, singing the whole way. Once finding his way to a larger town full of traders, he stayed for awhile to sing for rupees, earn what he thought he’d need, and eventually head off. He walked until there was no more road to follow. He walked as he started hearing trees. He walked as the trees grew bigger. He wasn’t sure if he could survive in the forest, but he felt at home here, it had called for him without him even realizing it.

Into the woods: Unbeknownst to him, he had gained the attention of Farore once he entered the lost woods. recognizing not only the blood of the Picori but the gift of wind in his soul. She welcomed him into the forest with her protection and blessing. He does not know this and does not question why he is never attacked in the forest. He is naive of the workings of a forest and rolls with it.

Adjusting to the woods: He finds a very convenient hollow formed in the side of a hill near a water source and many fruit trees. With his needs met, he starts living there. He does not question any of this as he knows so little of the world and doesn’t know if this is normal for a forest or not. He lives comfortably in the forest, creating a map of the place in his head by singing everywhere he goes. He accidentally finds rupees everywhere when he sweeps the long grass with the staff to make his way around. He only goes to the towns when absolutely necessary to gets supplies.

Fun fact: He refuses to eat meat for two reasons, he hates the thought of a living animal dying for him to eat, and it upsets his tummy. If given meat by accident, he will either spit up the unfamiliar texture and refuse the rest of the meal, or he’ll mistake the texture for something else, eat it all, and end up spending a small fortune on toilet paper for the next couple days.

[millicent231-watt]

(AoT) Obsessed - Eren X Yandere!Reader

Anime / Crossover: Attack on Titan

Songs: None

Request: None

Modern AU: No

------------------------------------------------------------------

"EREN!!" I say happily as I jump onto his back. "Wa...watch it, Y/N!" He stutters as we fall to the floor. I laugh happily and apologise. "Sorry, sorry. I just can't help myself, you're so easy to target." I wipe my tears and look around. "Huh? Mikasa and Armin aren't with you?" He stands up and rubs his back. "Their off training right now." He's alone? I smile and grab his hand quickly. "Then let's go somewhere!" I run off and pull him behind me. "Ch...chotto matte!"

I laugh happily as I pull him up onto a hill I had found lately. He'll love this! I know it! "Here we are!" I say as let go of his hand and fall back on the soft grass. "How did you find this place, Y/N?" He likes it! I smile and sit up next to him. "The Corporal gave me some time off because I had done a good job cleaning my room. I had a look around the place for a little bit before I found this." He sits down next to me and I smile happily. I've had a crush on him since I saw him on the 104th squad. "Eren!" I hear Armin yell out from the bottom of the hill. Damn-it! Why can't they just leave us alone?! "Oh, hey Armin. Hey Mikasa!" I look at Eren from the corner of my eyes. You never look that happy when it's just us.

"Is training already over?" He asks as his childhood friends, who nodded at his enquiry. It doesn't take long for Mikasa to notice I'm there as well. We glare at each other while the two boys talk. "Buzz off, Y/N. You're a trouble maker and we don't need to be associated with you." I slyly smirk at her as I get an idea. "Eeeereenn~" I playfully sing as I grab his upper arm, trapping it. "Y/N! I told you not to trap my arm in between your boobs!" He protests, but I just laugh and pull his arm closer. I smirk at Mikasa evilly as Eren closes his eyes and sighs. See? Eren likes me better, so get lost!

Skip to dinner time

"Eren~" I say happily as I run over to his table. "Oh, hey Y/N. Sit down." He's inviting me to sit with him! "O...okay..." I stutter as I sit down next to him and across from horse face, Connie and Sasha. "Hey, guys!" Armin walks over with Mikasa, both with a tray of food. His gaze falls onto and his face shows disgust and disappointment. "Oh, hey Y/N..." He mumbles as they sit on Erens Left side, while I'm seated on the right. Tea goes by surprisingly quickly with Eren making small talk and horse face trying to use pick up lines on Mikasa.

"So I see you ignored me completely, Y/N." Mikasa speaks up, leaving everyone but me silent and surprised by her sudden action. "I don't remember what you said. I usually ignore people who I don't care about." I reply coldly, staring her straight in her humiliated and angered eyes. "You should listen once in a while, maybe then you won't be so dim-witted and idiotic!" I gasp and sharpen my gaze on her. I open my mouth to reply but I get cut off by my superior. "If you brats are going to fight, at least take it outside. I just cleaned this place and I don't want anyone messing it up." The rest of the cadets look over to the unimpressed Corporal, but Mikasa and I keep our eye glued on each other. "Fine." We say together as we push ourselves up from the table and storm outside.

We stood meters away from each other, staring at each other intently, like a Mexican Stand-off in an old western movie. "I told you, you're trouble. We don't want you around. Leave us alone!" Mikasa says angrily. The other cadets had run outside to watch us. "I'm afraid I can't do that. There's no way I'll ever leave Eren, especially not with you!" I spit back as I grab the knife out of the belt wrapped around my thigh. "You're crazy! I'm the only one who can look after him without having to be some creepy stalker!" She yells as she picks up a thick, large stick. "YOU CAN'T LOOK AFTER EREN! YOU COULDN'T EVEN SAVE YOUR OWN PARENTS! NOT EVEN YOUR FOSTER MOTHER!" I yell angrily before I charge at her.

"You're insane!" She yells as she blocks my attack. "Y/N!" I hear Eren yell out from behind me. I turn my head around to face him, a sweet smile spreading across my face. "Yes, Eren?" I ask before getting struck in the stomach and being thrown back. "Shit...." I groan as I grab my stomach at the pain. "Do you see now? You're insane!" I laugh at her, my eyes stretch open beyond humanly possible and a wide grin covers my face. "I'M INSANE? You're the one that kicked me!" I laugh, insanity coursing through my veins, but I couldn't care less, as long as Eren was safe and happy with me. "MIKASA!" He yells out, more desperately than he yelled out for me. I growl in anger and pounce at her again, managing to slash her cheek, causing her to wince in pain and cover her cheek with her hand.

"Y/N! Stop this.....please..." I hear Eren plead as his voice gets closer. "Why? I'm just protecting you, Eren." I say happily as I slowly push my knife into Mikasa's thigh. She screams out in pain, I smile. "You always blocked and dismissed Eren's dreams, you blocked him from me!" I yell angrily as I push the knife deeper. "I won't allow you to hurt Eren anymore!" I scream as I quickly pull out the knife and held it above my head. "Y/N!!!" Eren yell desperately, but I still plunge my hands down towards Mikasa. Something stops me though, grabbing my wrist. I get thrown across the grass and onto my back. "Don't endanger other Cadets, you shit-head." I hear a monotone voice say. I glare up at the voice and block out the sun with my hand.

"Get out of my way, shorty." I warn him as I stand up and look down on him. I get kicked once again, but I keep my balance. "Is that any way to talk to your superiors, you brat?" I growl and grab my knife off the grass. "I will kill anyone who tries to hurt Eren! No one will get in my way, and if they do, they die as well." I jump at Captain Levi, with the knife in hand and pointed at him. I scream in anger as I thrust my knife towards him, but he jumps out of the way. "Are you crazy?! Trying to kill Heichou!" Eren yells at me, anger seeping through his voice. "B..but" "SHUT UP!" He yells, cutting me off and causing tears to form in my eyes. "It's best if you just keep away from us." What? "Matte, Eren..." I reach my hand out to his slowly disappearing figure. "Don't come near me or my friends again." My tears hit to ground like raindrops as everybody walked towards the base.

"Cadet!" Captain yells at me, also sounding quite angered. "You are no longer welcome on the Survey Corps. Commander Erwin has already made arrangements for you to join the Garrison Regiment. You're leaving now." "But..." "You're not packing anything!" He yells again, causing me to jump. "My squad, on her." He flicks his wrist towards me and I'm shackled, carried towards a cart and thrown inside. I'll get you Mikasa..... I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU! I sharpen my snarl. I can't let you get between me and Eren again.... I WON'T let you get between us again.

3 years later

I growl as I take a sip of the shitty soup served to the soldiers of the Garrison Regiment. "What's wrong with her?" I hear one of the new recruits whisper from across the room. "Word is she got kick out of the Survey Corps and had to come here." I hear another hushed voice say. The voice was so quiet that usually normal people wouldn't be able to hear it, but I had heightened all my senses after meeting Eren, so I could always protect him. "Yeah, I heard she killed almost half of the scouts!" That's not fucking true! "Really? Well, I heard she almost killed the Commander!" That's not true either! "You're both wrong! She got kicked out because she went insane and tried to kill every one of the people present."

I slam my hands onto the table and push myself up off the shitty, wooden, splinter-ridden chair. I slowly turn my head towards the 3 boys talking shit about me and glare angrily. "None of that is FUCKING TRUE!" I yell as I stride closer to them, causing them to shiver and whimper in fear. "Th...that's why th....they're rumours....hehehe..." I widen my eyes and step back a little. Tha...that's Mikasa's laugh! I squint my eyes and grab out a sharp butcher knife that happened to be sitting close by. "He...Hey...what are you going to do with that?" I could hear them shaking in their boots. I laugh as my mind fades away from me and all logical thinking is out of the question. "I'm going to kill you, obviously." I say with a grin on my face.

A few hours later

"No.... no... NO!" I cut the throat of the last person standing in my way. I watch in amusement as Dot Pixis body falls limp and hits the floor. "Ere.....must....protect.....Eren!" I start my journey toward the Survey Corps base.

A few MORE hours later

"And then Petra run straight into the door!" I hear Hange say before a riot of laughter erupted from behind the dining room door. "Eh....e.....er.....eren...eren..." I giggle happily as I push open the door slowly, causing a creaking sound to fill the dining room. Everyone's head turned to the door and then my face notices my features had become visible. "Y/N. We all thought you were on the Garrison Regiment for the time being." Hange chuckles nervously, in an attempt to break the silence I had created. "How can I be with the Garrison Regiment if there's no one left?" I ask as my left eye twitches. "Y...Y/N...c...calm down, okay?" The worry was showing in Petra's voice as I walked further into the room. My arm dropped from in front of me to my side. "C...can you tell us what you did?" She asks next to me, where her designated seat was.

"I killed them.....I KILLED THEM ALL!" I laugh happily, gripping the handle of the knife tighter. "Wh...Why did you do it?" I look down at her seriously, eyes wide open. "They were in my way..... they were spreading rumours.... they hated me..." I end coldly as I look forward again, seeing the terrified faces of the soldiers. Through the sea of people, I see exactly who I wanted to see. Mikasa. I begin to walk forward again, my bare feet slapping hard against the cold, stone floor. I had abandoned my shoes quite some time ago, on my way here. "Mi-ka-sa~" I playfully hum before someone grabs my arm. I flick my head around to face a strangers face. A new recruit, maybe? I lift the knife into the air quickly and bring it down twice as fast, cutting his whole forearm off.

His screams run through the dead quiet halls and rooms of the Survey Corp old Headquarters. I turn back around and continue to walk towards Mikasa, only to get stopped again. I do the same thing and chop off the arm of the cadet trying to stop me. "If you're all trying to stop, I guess I have no choice then." I say, deadpan. I walk through the horde of cadets, slicing and cutting off various parts of their bodies, ultimately killing them. Some of them didn't even try to stop me, but I killed them anyway because I know they'd try to stop me later on. "MI-KA-SA~" I say, insanity clearly shown through my plastered smile.

Eren's POV

Y/N walked through the piles and piles of dead bodies she had created, she was heading towards Mikasa! Why aren't the superiors doing anything?! I look past Y/N over to where Levi's squad sat and say fear stuck on their faces, even Captain! "MIKAAAAASAAAA~" Y/N chimes and I snap my head towards Mikasa who was frozen stiff. Is she so scared, that she can't move? "Eren....." I snap my head towards Armin's voice behind me, only to see he was sitting still as well. "Do something...." He whispers to me, his voice cracking multiple times throughout his attempt to speak. I look back to Y/N quickly, jumping back a little as she had gotten a lot closer.

What can I do? Without thinking I do the one thing I know will stop her, for the time being at least. "Y/N!" I yell out to her. Stopping her movement, she slowly looks to me. "Yes, Eren?" She says happily, a sweet smile showing. It was a nice smile compared to her psychotic one. "D...Don't do this." I plead, but she only giggles. "But I'm protecting you, Eren. Didn't I always say I would." I shake at her smile as she begins to walk again. She did always say that.....but this is going too far! "H....Heichou!" I yell out to him desperately. I hear a low growl, but it wasn't coming from Captain. It was coming from Y/N. She spins around and walks towards the door slowly. Thank god! I sigh happily to myself and smile to Armin, who gave me a thumbs up.

I hear the sound of her footsteps stop I turn back around, worried. "Is this your beloved Heichou, Eren?" My breathing hitches and my eyes widen once more when I see her holding the struggling short man, with the knife to his neck. "H....heichou..." My voice squeaks out and before I know it Y/N was covered in different shades of red. "I...if Heichou couldn't beat her.....how can we?" Hange and the rest of the team screamed and cowered in fear as Y/N walked around the table, killing them one by one. "There, now only two people stand in my way." She scowls in our direction and begins to walk over, that is until the door opens and I see the Commanders smiling face. "Good evening everybo...d...." His sentence drops as he opens his eyes, seeing all his friends and comrades dead.

"I'll correct myself then, three people stand in my way." Y/N growls as she lunges at the Commander, but being as tall as he is it makes it harder for him to dodge the knife flying at his head. I whimper and shake in fear as his head rolls down and taps my feet lightly. "Only two now." Y/N says happily before swiftly running towards poor, innocent little Armin and plunging the knife deep into his heart. "One to go~" She hums happily as she skips over to Mikasa's shaking body. Why aren't I stopping her?! What can't I move my body to stop her?! "Any last words, Mikasa?" She chuckles as she runs the flat side of the knife against Mikasa's neck. "Don't be sad, Eren. It's not you fau-" He sentence was cut off by the gurgling noise of her mouth filling with blood.

Y/N remove the knife and stabs Mikasa's now lifeless body in the heart, letting the knife stick out of her chest. "See? Now we can be happy together!" She smiles at me as she kicks Mikasa's corpse off the chair and sits in her place. My breathing refused to return to normal as she looked at me. "No one will get in our way EVER again. We'll be together forever! Won't that be fun Eren?" She asks me happily and I just nod my head, fearing that if said no she'd surely kill me too. "Great! We can make this place our home! Come on! Let's get to renovating and decorating!" She grabs my hand and pulls me away from, what used to be, my friends.

What have I done?

[vvakarians]

It’s getting really gay under the cut, featuring my Phillippe Vandame and @charlatanreyes ‘s Antigonus 

It wasn’t the stench that seemed to permeate the walls nor the sound of rats feet skittering across the stone; no, it was the small body, it’s arms wrapped around itself as if to ward off the oncoming hand of death. The child had not been down here for more than two days and yet the rot of the Spire had already began to claim it, every tendril of mold that Phillippe laid his eyes on made his stomach turn and threaten to compromise him.

“Not now, not in front of the others”, he thought to himself, and threw his gaze away from the glowstone. Beside him, the other recruits were watching in an irreverent silence, most would scoff later about how the mage hadn’t been strong enough, that it should have been strong enough if it had wanted to live. It. Such an ugly word, the other recruits threw it around as if the syllable meant nothing --as if the dead were not there-- and laughed. How could they call anyone that and mean it, especially about a child?

“You sure we should really be disposing of the body, more food for the rats” one of them snarled, turning towards the senior templar that stood in front of them all.

He was an older man, a Knight-Lieutenant of the Order, long, stringy gray hair pulled back and constantly shaven, but rather badly. Phillippe could not remember his name for the life of him and thought he’d rather not know, it was better to not put a name to the face when things went wrong, as they often did.

“The mage will be taken upstairs to another chamber, you are here for removal, nothing more. Maker willing, you’ll get this one and the others cleaned up in double the time the others did”, the Knight-Lieutenant muttered and made his way forward through the trio of recruits before him.

Panic sank to the bottom of Phillippe’s stomach as he realized that the man was leaving him here with the other two men, in the Pit of the Spire, to clean up the remains of other people. Before he could even string together a coherent thought the older Knight had walked completely out of the holding cell, his heavy footsteps echoing off the damp walls. With only the glowstone affixed to the floor of the small room, the young man once again glanced downwards and felt his stomach roil. This child could have been no more than eleven when he had died, only slightly older than his own little brother that wandered the halls awaiting his Harrowing.

Whoever, or whatever had killed this boy certainly left a mess. Dark swathes of blood colored the stones beneath the body and beneath the recruits boots, mostly dried, but some spots were still tacky. Phillippe didn’t dare look for the eyes, if they were even present, he knew well enough that some rat had probably snatched them away long ago. Most of the damage to the body was likely done after the mage had died, as the murderer had only stabbed it’s victim --exactly once-- straight through the heart. They hadn’t even had time to let loose a fireball or freeze the assailant before the dagger had done its work.

One of the other recruits scoffed as he knelt down beside the body, armor clanking together as he did so. He was not a good looking man, a recruit that had been taken later in life than the rest, no doubt sporting a belly that could hold half his weight in ale. The man screwed up his gnarled root of a nose and spat into the darkness, chuckling as the rats scrambled for cover.

“Still think we should leave it for food”, his voice was just as rough as he seemed, life had not made him kind.

“I don’t think the rats would want to eat the rest of ‘im, they took the best parts already” the other recruit, a smaller man, no more than Phillippes age clanked over to Rough Voice’s side and gazed down. Not an Orlesian by the sound of his accent, more than likely some ruffian they pulled out of the prison to fill out the ranks.

“Our superior asked for us to bring him up, we should do as he requested”

The words were out of his mouth before Phillippe could stop himself, both the other recruits’ heads snapped up and gave him a sneer. Rough Voice’s teeth were a harsh yellow color that only added to the young man’s nausea. Why in the Maker’s name did it seem like he was the only one that actually took care of himself?

“And what do you think they’re gonna do with it’s body, send it back? Andraste’s tits, you’re a daft one, it probably had no parents, or if it did they wouldn’t want it back anyway”, Rough Voice’s friend grumbled. An anger began to boil within Phillippe at the man’s gall, how dare he say that? This mage had been no more than a boy when he died, his parents were probably worried sick, or at best, and hopefully, dead. At least then they’d be with their child instead of waiting for word from the White Spire about his untimely demise. His armored fists clenched at his side and he had every inclination to draw his sword right there, perhaps cut out the tongue of the recruit who had dared say that, however he was able to hold himself back for the time being.

“Do you have no kind bone in your body? He was a child”

“And? Children die where I come from everyday, noble boy, it wasn’t anythin’ special”, the second recruits brow knit together for a moment and his own rage overcame his features, “Why do you care anyway? You were raised with a golden spoon in your mouth, I bet, not to mention this thing was a mage. They aren’t like you and me”

They aren’t like you and me.

Phillippe’s mind went straight to Jean-Marc, his little brother, undoubtedly fast asleep right about now in his quarters. He imagined the boy at his feet with his siblings face, how this very well could have been him at any point. His own parents had practically been rejoicing when they sent their youngest son of to the Circle, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Being cursed with a mage child meant that there was just another black mark on the family’s reputation, it meant that it was another child that could not further their legacy. Memories of Jean being stripped away from them, quietly, without a fuss did not exist in his eldest brothers mind. There were only images of the child biting and kicking at the templars, his shrill voice had made the walls shake while they were made to watch. He could remember every detail, every lamp shattering on the walls, the crystalline tears as they fell from the boy’s green eyes. It reminded him of another. A first born son, made to confess why he had kissed another boy, and then being dragged up to his room. Locked away in personal void laid out before him by his parents. Phillippe could still remember the voice of his mother as she spoke with his eldest sister.

He isn’t like you or me.

The rage was almost too much to bear, lyrium song screeching in his ears as he took a step forward in the dark.

“I will not let you leave him here to be eaten like some discarded meat. If you won’t do this, then I will”

There was a chuckled from one of them, but Phillippe did not care to recognize the source, his body moving of it’s own accord. Perhaps there was something that was said, but he did not hear it; there was only the image of the boy, alone in his room. He isn’t like you or me. His armor scraped against the bloodied stone as he scooped up the corpse, the body itself weighed no more than a bird would, and yet it had a heaviness to it that the young man knew all too well. Unfortunately, he had become too fixated on the small thing in his arms and did not take notice to the fact Rough Voice had stood, placing his boot out in front of Phillippe. No doubt his voice would be bouncing off of the walls just as the Knight-Lieutenant's footfalls had, the third man noticing none of it. True to the situation, he did not see the boot, only registering the way the cold, stale air rushed out from beneath him.

Phillippe did not fall gracefully, indeed he fell with a great -whoompf! - and clattered to the ground so loudly that somewhere down the hall another pair of footsteps could be heard making for the stairs up to the main floor. A pair of footsteps that should not have been there in the first place, however the three recruits did not take heed, instead the two lugs cackled while their peer reeled on the floor.

Flecks of pain dotted the arm he had landed on, no doubt there would be severe bruising at the very least, in the moment though, he did not care. Upon his fall he had slammed down into the corpse, the acrid smell of death washing over him in waves. He had already begun to retch as he rolled off the boy, this time able to register the laughs continuing to come out of the other two men behind him. Pure anger and embarrassment mixed into a volatile concoction within his chest while he let his body do what it needed.

“Shoulda’ been watchin’ where you were goin’, noble boy” one of them were able to choke out amongst their fit of chuckling, “Hows that body doin’ now? Can’t wait to see the look on that old geezers face when you present it to ‘im-”

In three swift movements, carried by all the rage inside him, Phillippe’s fist connected with Rough Voice’s jaw. Bile and spit still dripped from the corner of his mouth as he slammed another into his already pitted face, the other recruit scrambling to make it towards the cell door. He didn’t know how many times he had delivered a punch to the older recruit, only that he had stopped when a pair of stronger hands had seized him under the arms, fresh blood splattered everywhere in the cell now. In all reality, Phillippe did not care, through the numbness and pain all he could hear was the song laced with his mothers words.

He isn’t like you or me.

Again. Again. Phillippe’s fists slammed into the training dummy, splintering the wood holding it upright, with a single, furious shout. As he took a step back it toppled over, Rough Voice --later to be named Virgil Greer, a transfer from the Marches-- still fresh in his mind this many years afterwards. He had learned the next week that the man had nearly died from his wounds, apparently Phillippe had shattered much of his jaw and an eye socket, the bastard refusing to eat anything while the healer worked on him for days. After that early morning in the Pit he had been assigned to a different Circle, the third transfer in a year for the merchant turned supposed holy warrior, put in his place by a seventeen year old boy from a prominent noble family, and an Orlesian one at that. Phillippe had never been sent to the Pit again and had instead been put on guard duty for the various Tranquils about the White Spire, as well as punished with attending Harrowings for the remainder of his days as a templar. Or that’s how he liked to put it. No doubt the Knight-Commander had thought it best to put him in his place after such a show, not that it helped make him any quieter.

Now the boy was a man, recovering from a recent red lyrium exposure in the Emprise, his scars keeping him up at all hours with the pain of a fever. A constant, underlying song sang beneath his skin when he wasn’t focused on something else, not even the Calling, which had been nearly eradicated since his Joining, could do much of anything anymore. He had taken to sitting in the snow banks when he wasn’t in his cot, soaking in the cold that eventually would just make him sick on top of the lyrium withdrawals, but it was enough to keep the terrible heat at bay. At least while the Warden-Constable was with the other Warden recruits. Come to think of it he had felt a familiar presence on the edge of camp that morning just before he had started beating up the training dummy..

“What in Andraste’s name do you think you’re doing, Warden?!”

Ah, there he is, Phillipe thought fondly, letting himself smile just a bit while his breath made clouds in the near zero temperature. His bloodshot eyes landed upon the elf who had emerged from a tent nearby, soft, brown hair gently waving in the cold breeze, a scowl gracing his normally sweet features. Here he had thought Antigonus could not get more beautiful, only to be proven wrong the moment they had come to the Emprise with the Inquisitors in tow. He relished every moment he could hold the man in his arms and warm him with his unnatural heat, even when they were still bloodied from battle.

“I’m teaching the dummy a lesson”, he replied once the Warden-Constable trudged closer, full armor gleaming off the snow.

“You should be resting, Vandame”

A sigh escaped Phillippe’s lips as he adjusted his own armor, growing uncomfortably hot beneath it already, “Is it too late for me to say no?”

“Phillippe-”

“I couldn’t sleep, you had gone to brief the others and the--”, he winced as a twinge of pain crawled up his back, “the song was making it hard to even relax”

Antigonus replied with a wonderfully cool hand placed against the warden recruits cheek, concern flitting across his brow so quickly that Phillippe regretted ever getting out of bed.

“You still have a high fever, you should really come back to rest”

“Only if you’ll come with me”

“You know I will, mon cher, I only had to step out for a moment this morning”

There was an unspoken moment between the two as Antigonus offered up his hand to the other man, Phillippe taking it almost instantly, if anything could get that memory of the Pit out of his head it would be the Warden-Constable. Upon the closing of the tent flap behind him the elven man’s fingers helped pry off the sweat soaked armor that Phillippe had made himself haul on early that morning, his wonderfully cool skin relieving the pain near immediately. Antigonus’s gentle lips pressed a calming trail of kisses along his jaw and had the Orlesian man sighing in contentment as he eased himself into the Warden-Constables lap, his head resting between his legs. He had missed Ani’s smile, the way his eyes creased just so when he did, the way his hair tickled his cheeks when he would lean down to kiss him. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad t relive the memories, the he isn’t like you or me moments, if he would eventually feel the elf’s touch, his hands carding through his hair and smoothing it down. The press of magical energy eased away the song that rested just behind his eyes as he was able to finally just relax; the shivering reduced to a minimum while Ani took care of him. Later he would think of a way to repay him, to relieve the burden of command just for a little while, but for now he was content with the warden’s lips upon his, washing away the sins of the past.

[falloutpnp]

Session 13

GM Note: Here comes a new player! For the sake of continuity, the character of Curt (Jakob) has been with the party since the beginning.

Reade’s radio crackles to life as Pandora informs the Sergeant of Auden’s well being, much to her relief. Their elation is suddenly grounds when Pandora remembers the ACU soldier she had previous… crippled. Reade orders Billy and Curt to check in on the enemy and, if necessary, put him down. The Sergeant also orders Balint to prepare to follow her en route to Auden’s location.

Outside, in cold darkness, Winston tinkers around with Lotta’s remains. After several attempts, the mechanic is able to repair and reboot the robot back to life. Although the work is essentially a patch job (the robot is basically held together with glue and duct tape) Lotta is able to regain function of most of its systems. Its IR sensor, however, is beyond Winston’s repair. When playfully asked by Reade how does it feel for the robot to be brought back from the ‘dead’, Lotta pontificates a semi-philosophical speech about how it was never alive in the first place. It’s lost on Reade who just gives the robot a simple nod and thumbs up.

Meanwhile, Billy and Curt make their way through into the Administration offices where Pandora had previously faced an ACU soldier. They fail to overhear the faint murmuring coming from the darkness; instead, they see a trail of blood leading into one of the offices As they enter the Facility Manager's office, a sluggish punch swipes through the air, narrowly missing Billy’s face by an inch. The wounded ACU soldier enters into a brief tussle. Curt furrows his brow, pulls out his pistol and attempts to shoot the soldier in the leg. He misses but the shot is enough force the soldier into submission. The two mercenaries notice the injured man is holding onto a large radio handset.

Reade, who is about to make her way towards Auden’s location, hears Curt’s shot. She tells Balint to go on ahead while she investigates. When she arrives, Billy and Curt inform her of the situation. After some initial interrogation, the Sergeant pushes the soldier - Subteniente Vargas - for answers about the radio. Vargas simply avoids her questions by flippantly stating that he has nothing valuable to share. Reade passes Billy some duct tape and orders him to bind Vargas and take him to the captured ACU Major. The shortly drag him off back to the reception area.

Meanwhile, Charles begins to fiddle and mess around with the facility’s power management system. Despite his rudimentary understanding of electronics, the mercenary fiddles around with the fuse box and miraculously manages to restore power to the building. Lights begin to floor the corridors once more, much to everyone’s rejoyce. Charles decides to take the opportunity to explore the rest of the facility. He eventually stumbles room secured with a thick, iron bar cage door, labeled as the store room. Through the bars, he spots a large, opened wooden crate with a set of heavy footprints leading out of the room and down the corridor he had just wandered through. Charles manages to pick the lock and walks inside for a closer inspection. Spray painted in red with large, menacing letters is the word ‘RAVAGER’. Puzzled, Charles is about to report his findings when he discovers a cache of landmines, grenades and ammunition. The delusional schizophrenic’s eyes widen with delight…

Reade finally manages to meet with Pandora and Auden. A relieved Schuster shares a tender moment with Auden as Balint works to heal her to the best of his abilities. The doctor is able to heal her broken legs but is unable to heal her arms. Though she is still uncomfortable with pain, the Lieutenant is thankful for Balint’s hard work. Focusing, Auden’s memory flickers back to the beginning of Operation Moonshield. She recalls the series of events previously explained by Schuster up until her capture. After Fenton and Condor were executed, Auden was severely beaten and dragged to Wessex. As they transported her, Auden caught a glimpse of the soldiers taking Condor’s comms equipment and Fenton’s pipboy. Eventually she would discover the truth about behind the rumours of the highly advanced encryption technology: it was a hoax concocted by the ACU to lure out NCR mercenaries. They had heard that the NCR had employed freelance mercenary units to take on ‘high risk and rewards’ tasks and wanted to see what they were made of. In the process, they managed to accomplish three goals:

Capture an NCR mercenary

Investigate/hack the stolen equipment (Fenton’s Pipboy and Condor’s tech)

Field test the Ravager

A baffled Reade asks what is this ‘Ravager’, to which Auden reveals to be an experimental ACU power armour suit. Worried, the Sergeant immediately asks if Pandora’s lance encountered the Ravager. The lance leader shakes her head. Reade suddenly realises that Vargas must have contacted enemy reinforcements - including the experimental Ravager. She then contacts Jack over the radio and tells him to force Vargas to spill the beans.

Realising that they must have figured something out, Vargas spits blood in Jack’s face and tells him to fuck off. The unperturbed Jack removes a handkerchief from his top pocket and charismatically wipes the stain from his cheek as he nods for Curt to drag Vargas away. The muscle bound merc yanks at Vargas’ neck and heaves him into another room where he is swiftly beaten senseless. As the sound of wet, bloodied punches echoes through the facility, The ACU Major immediately begins to talk. He tells Jack that he will reveal more information if he is promised to be treated appropriately as a prisoner of war under NCR custody. Jack lies and says ‘sure thing’ without consulting Reade. The Major’s wily senses kick in and he asks for Reade’s promise on the matter.

Unamused, Reade marches back to their location and tells the ACU Major that he is in no position to make demands. He nervously swallows but says that he is prepared to accept his fate. Reade cuts him off and barks at the ACU Major to tell her everything he knows about the Ravager. The enemy officer finally comes clean and explains that it is an experimental power armour that was being field tested. They wanted to know how efficient of a killing machine it was. Satisfied with his answers, Reade presses the Major for answers about Vargas’ radio call. A sly smirk spreads across his face as he explains that Reade and her unit will need to keep him alive to bargain for their lives. The ACU Major promises that they will be treated fairly and will be dealt with… honourably if they surrender. He estimates that the Ravager squad will return to Wessex within the next 5 to 10 minutes. Reade coldly tells the ACU Major that they’ll need a fucking army to stop them. She swiftly boots him in the face, rendering him unconscious.

Knowing that they are racing against the clock, Reade orders The Misfits to prepare for battle. Charles confidently strolls in and reveals the bounty of weapons and ammunition he discovered in the store room. The Misfits divide it between themselves. Reade then orders the following:

Sasha is to plant landmines around the facility entrance.

Curt will tie up Vargas and leave him outside with a landmine planted next to him.

Everyone is to take defensive positions and shoot out through the bunker windows.

Charles and Schuster will take up sniping positions in the radar tower dishes.

Auden will hide until the coast is clear.

While Curt is outside gagging and securing Vargas outside, he catches a glimpse of Reade setting up an emergency beacon. She contacts Maxwell on a secure line and informs him about the situation. The Phoenix Corporation leader delivers some bad news; bad weather has hit The Boneyard. They will arrive in 20 minutes. He tells Reade to stall for as much time as possible.

When Charles and Schuster reach the large radar farm, he gives him some .223 rounds and wishes him good luck. They split up, climbing separate towers in order to get maximum view of their surroundings. The large radar dish Charles finds himself in shows the tell-tale signs of habitation. A tattered sleeping bag lies on the flattest part of the dish with a few empty cans of food scattered around. As the dish bends, forming a ‘wall’ to this unique home, Charles spots a several pictures of pin-up girls plastered around to give the place some decoration. He takes a few to add to his private collection. As he pockets the pictures, he also catches glimpse of what appears to be an make-fix emergency escape rope. The rope, made from high tension fibres, is rigged to a pulley wheel and a large counterweight, allowing for someone to quickly and carefully lower themselves to the ground. Before he has time to test it, however, Schuster radios through to tell alert everyone to the approaching enemy.

The Ravager squad, comprised for 10 or so soldiers, marches towards Wessex. Leading them is a man wearing what appears to be the Ravager power armour. The suit, comprised of a menacing set of protective metal that completely encases the soldier, is outfitted with what appears to be a large set of spring loaded machete sized blades that are retracted on the left arm and a threatening heavy machine gun. The Ravager halts the squad 50 or so meters away from the facility.

Reade tells Jack to stall the enemy for as long as possible. After an awkward start, in which Jack asks if anyone ‘habla Ingles?’, he manages to start a dialog with the English speaking leader. The leader immediately orders The Misfits to release their superior officer and surrender to the ACU. Jack lies and says the situation is a complete misunderstanding. He asks the ACU soldier to remove his armour because it scares him. Miraculously, the soldier buys his lie but refuses to remove his armour. Instead, he decides to ‘ease the tension’ but removing his helmet to discuss things ‘man-to-man’.

Reade orders Charles to take the shot. The round slices through the air and glances his temple, causing the Ravager to fall to his knees. The rest of the ACU soldiers whip their rifles towards Charles’ position and open fire. Bullets perforate and frantically dance around the sniper’s position, peppering him with hot lead and debris. He is severely injured and rolls into better cover. Hearing Charles’ pained cries over the radio, The Misfits open fire on the ACU soldiers, catching them by surprise. Several of them are hit during the barrage, resulting in the soldiers quickly pop smoke grenades which flood their positions with swirling plumes of red smoke.

Although the thick smoke masks their presence, two of the enemy soldiers are caught by Schuster making their way around the side of the facility. The sniper trains his sights on their position and fires a single, silenced shot. The round pierces the lung of its target, causing the man to fall to the ground, choking for air. Having regained his determination through a sheer lust for revenge, Charles crawls back to his firing position, takes aim and squeezes the trigger. A split second later, there’s the sound of a loud, wet thwack, followed by the banshee like howls of the severely injured ACU combatant. He stumbles around, clutching at his face as blood and fluid - thick and stringy like egg yolks - pours from his eye holes. Both soldiers manage to drag themselves back into the cover of smoke.

At the same time, through the vail of the red smoke, a thunderous explosion erupts. Through their scopes, Schuster and Charles catch glimpse of hot meaty chunks of human flesh soaring into the air. They begin to grasp the situation: the mine next to Vargas has exploded, taking - by their estimation - the lives of Vargas plus one.

Through the thin, bunker glass, a vigilant Billy spots an ACU soldier in a ghillie suit crawling to the rear side of the facility. Billy radios Schuster for sniper support and the two open fire on the enemy. Both barrages of fire miss, kicking up dust and dirt.

Strolling confidently towards the facility's front door, the mighty Ravager soldier draws his chain gun and opens fire at the thick steel bulkhead. The rounds pierce through the metal and although it puts up a struggle, the door is eventually torn down. Although Winston and Jack are hopeful in the landmine taking out the power armour, the enemy spots and casually steps over it. The Ravager leader orders one of the soldiers to disable it as he makes his way down the stairs. Jack and Winston realise they are cornered.

Meanwhile, Lotta, Reade and Pandora spot the outlines of two additional ACU soldiers walking past their windows. They wait for a moment before ambushing them and opening fire. The soldiers roll out of harm’s way, and the group enters into a fierce gun fight.Frustrated with his inability to get a good angle on the enemy, Curt decides to blow a hole in the wall with a grenade so that he can charge in with his heavy machine gun. He plants the explosive next to what he perceives to be a weakness in the structure and runs for cover. The grenade shatters the centuries old wall, granting Curt a narrow passage to the outside.

Knowing that there is one landmine at the bottom of the steps, Jack decides to pull out of cover and fire at the bomb in the hopes of destroying the power armour. He misses, much to his dread and the Ravager’s delight.

Meanwhile, Billy’s gun fight with the ghillied ACU soldier has intensified. Both utilising the cover to their advantage, the pair exchange a barrage of deadly shotgun and machine gun fire until Billy is eventually hit in the shoulder. Unable to contain himself, Charles sends a volley of bullets in the enemy’s direction, forcing him out of cover. Realising he doesn’t have any further options, the ghillied soldier rushes to the bunker wall and plants a C4 charge. He radios something through to his team mates - something that momentarily ceases the gun fire from all sides. The pause in combat immediately sets off Reade’s battle sense and she orders everyone to get into cover.

Outside, several C4 detonations sound off around the facility. A hole in the wall is created near Billy’s position at the rear of the facility; the windows near Reade, Pandora and Lotta is blown through; and - surprisingly - the outer wall to the bathroom where Winston and Jack are positioned is torn open by the lung shot soldier Schuster had previously shot at.

Realising his options are limited, Winston cracks open a vent shaft door and begins to crawl away, leaving Shady behind. Wanting to buy time for everyone, Jack decides to shoot at the landmine one more time. He calls out to the Ravager and, in a spectacular display of lofty arrogance, decides to tell a joke.

“Why did the Mexican cross the border?” He leaps out of cover, swings his magnum revolver in the Ravager’s direction and pulls the trigger. The magnum round blasts out of the barrel and burrows itself into the explosive device right next to the Ravager’s feet. It explodes, blossoming into a fireball of death and slicing, white-hot shrapnel. “Because he wanted to blow up!” Jack delivers the flippant punchline just in time to see the Ravager step out of the flames. Although the power armour was indeed damaged, it was not enough to render the enemy incapacitated. The menacing Ravager walks towards Jack and offers a joke of his own.

“Why did the gringo cross the Ravager?” Suddenly, the large machete sized blades sprint forward him the suit’s left arm, forming a set of ferocious claws. “Because he wanted to be torn to pieces.” Unable to think of a snappy retort, Jack turns tail and flees through the bathroom.

Unable to get a sight on the enemy, Charles decides to take a risk and use the emergency pull system to quickly lower himself to the ground. Luckily, the hastily strung together pulley and counterweight hold together, the sniper descends to the ground quickly and carefully. At the same time, Billy finally defeats the ghillied soldier when he blasts him with a double barrel load of buckshot. The enemy’s ribcage explodes in a flash of red gore. An injured Billy stands triumphantly over his fallen enemy.

With the enemy in his sights, Curt lays down on the ground and deploys his heavy machine gun. He sends a volley of .50 cal rounds at the soldiers near Reade’s position. The rounds dance around their targets, narrowly missing them. However, much to Curt’s shock and confusion, the enemy suddenly explode into red clouds of bloody mists, resulting in one of them losing and arm and leg while the other outright dies. At the same time, Reade tells everyone to hit the deck and take cover. In the far distance, the Vertibird opens fire again from a side mounted chain gun on the two ACU soldiers’ position, resulting in total fatalities.

The Vertibird swings towards the other side of the facility and rains down white hot fury on the blinded and lung shot ACU soldiers, sending limbs and whimpering screams into the night sky. Sensing safety, Jack takes a running jump at the hole in the bathroom and scrambles outside. Hot in his heals, the Ravager stampedes through the opening and is about to take fire on Jack. Through a masterful stroke of marksmanship, Charles is able to deliver a precise shot to the power armour’s visor, shattering it and exposing part of the ACU soldier’s face.  

Quickly registering what has just happened, Jack spins on his heels, points his revolver at the Ravager’s exposed face and pulls the trigger. The soldier’s sharpened senses kick in and he reflexively rolls away from the shot. It glances off his forehead and ricochets of what remains of his helmet. Stricken with panic, Jack runs for his life. The Vertibird moves in and gives the gunner enough of an angle to pivot the mounted machine gun into position. Although the Ravager is unable to shoot at the Vertibird, he decides to take out his fury on the fleeing Jack. His chain gun spins into life and a flurry of 5mm rounds cut through Jack, severely wounding him. Jack crumbles to the floor but is still alive to turn on his side and look into the eyes of the inflictor of his impending demise. Instead of outright killing him, the Ravager points his gun to the sky and attempts to shoot down the Vertibird. However, at the last second, his vision snaps onto an encroaching Charles who has fired a final round from his sniper rifle. The Ravager soldier to let out a shocked, fear stricken gasp before the round smashes into his exposed head. He falls to the floor as blood and brain matter oozes from his wound.

The Misfits are finally victorious in their battle against the ACU Ravager forces.

As Hobson lands the Vertibird, it is revealed that Major Maxwell was the gunner. He removes himself from the mounted turret harness and rushes to Jack. The silver tongued merc manages to sit himself up before giving his commanding officer a thumbs up. Maxwell tells him he did a good job and offers him a Yak 42 cigar. The rest of the team radios through that they’re okay before rendezvousing at the facility entrance. Maxwell and Hobson inspect the remains of the Ravager power armour. The Major finds it troubling that the enemy has access to such technology. He and Blythe had never dreamt that the ACU could outdo the Enclave in terms of weaponry on this scale. Reade soon meets with Maxwell and informs him about the situation and the ACU true purpose at Wessex. The Major is relieved to hear that Auden and Schuster are alive but is devastated by the news of Condor and Fenton’s passing. He swears to honour their names before ordering The Misfits to retrieve the stolen Pipboy and comms tech. At the same time, Curt presents Maxwell with the captured ACU Major.

The ACU officer nervously looks at Maxwell and asks to negotiate. The Phoenix Corporation leader coldly informs him that he can negotiate with the NCR. The Misfits carry him off to the Vertibird as Hobson radios Blythe to arrange for NCR military police to be on standby at HQ. After securing the last of the looted ACU equipment, the team finally set off home.

The sun begins to rise on a new day as the Vertibird carries The Misfits back to HQ. Although they encounter some turbulence, the journey gives time for reflection on a hard night’s work. The Vertibird carefully maneuvers into the HQ’s courtyard, where a pair of NCR MPs flank Mr Blythe. The civil servant congratulates the team on a job well done before the MPs cart the ACU officer off into the back of an armoured truck. The enemy officer takes one last fearful glance at the Misfits before the truck doors slam shut.

The mood is cut short when Charles makes another passing comment about the bullet ration. Blythe playfully dismisses it and says that his comments have been noted. As the weary team make their way into HQ, Blythe informs Jack that there is a visitor waiting for him in the lobby.

Curiously, Jack Shady cautiously enters the lobby to discover a young, slender woman holding hands with a small girl. The young lady’s face immediately brightens up when she spots him.

“Jack Shady… it’s been a long time. It’s me, Molly. Molly Hull. And this, Jack, is our daughter…”

A rock forms inside of Jack’s stomach as Charles snorts out a mocking laugh.